


Pyro Gets a New Home

by Demonskull



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Families of Choice, Gen, POV First Person, everybody shows up. eventually., i dont type in accents. why does everybody do that, trans pyro, wow pyro how come you get six gay dads?, you dont have to know canon to read this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 02:16:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15451176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Demonskull/pseuds/Demonskull
Summary: After getting a strange package in the mail, Pyro gets driven to New Mexico to get adopted by six dads, a brother, and a drunk uncle.





	Pyro Gets a New Home

A few weeks ago, I got a package in the mail that told me I was hired, to put the suit inside on, and to wait here, along with a picture of the guy that would be picking me up. I didn’t even know what I was hired for, but here I am, sweating under the Mexican sun with a suitcase packed with my belongings by my side and the flamethrower I’ve been working on strapped to my back. I guess I really would do anything to get out of ‘my’ house.

The longer I stay out here, the more I regret it. But then again, if I go back, my mom will be pissed off at me. I’m sweating too much, this mask is hard to breathe in. Even the mail itself was suspicious. How do I know this isn’t some kind of kidnapping thing? There wasn’t even a return address-

A red unmarked truck pulls up next to me and the guy from the picture comes out, a wide smile on his face. He’s kind of soft-looking, an inch or two shorter than me, wearing flannel and overalls. He’s also wearing some weird goggles.

“Hey there. You’re the new guy?” I take a deep breath, steady myself, and nod, “I’m Mason. It’s nice to meet you.”

“You too,” I say, my mask muffling me. Mason sticks his hand out and I look at it for a second. Right, make a good impression. I take his hand firmly and shake it.

“You must be hot, right?” He opens the door again, “Let’s go.”

I haul my suitcase into the back seat and buckle in. Mason gets back in with me, glancing at me before focusing on the road again as we take off.

“So, you got a name, new guy?”

“Er…” I swallow as I try to think fast, “Pyro?”

“It’s funny, I can’t understand a word you’re saying. You know sign language?”

“You’re driving,” I say, and sign it as well for good measure, “Wouldn’t it be dangerous to look?”

“Nah, nobody drives out here anyway,” He chuckles, “We’re in the middle of nowhere. We got a long drive, too, so we can listen to the radio or play 20 questions.”

“Oh, okay,” I laugh nervously, <Pyro.>

* * *

After a while, when the sun hangs low in the sky, we finally find a gas station. I spend a while looking around for something to eat, Mason is done in a few seconds, getting a pack of cigarettes and an iced coffee. I finally decide on a pack of chips and a soda, placing them on the counter. Mason looks at me quickly as the bored cashier rings us up.

Mason lights a cigarette and fills the truck up when we get out. I sit on the hood of the truck and eye his hands.

<Isn’t that dangerous?> I sign as I contemplate taking off my mask.

“Yeah,” He breathes out.

<Okay,> I grab the bottom of my mask and then think again, <Can I take this off?>

“I dunno why you kept it on the whole time, but yeah.”

I pull it off and shake my hair out. Gross, I’m all sweaty. Whatever. I tear open my chips and start wolfing them down.

“I didn’t think we hired girls,” Mason says as he puts the pump up. My heart flutters and my stomach twists.

“What?” I’m secretly happy he called me a girl, downright excited even, even though his statement terrifies me in every other respect.

“On the front lines, I mean,” He pauses, thinking, “Of course we _hire_ girls, but they mostly get jobs that keep them out of danger. For the most part.”

“Is that so…?” My brain is telling me I was hired as a mistake. They read my official stuff and didn’t even bother to call and check. My hand shakes and I stuff my mouth with chips before I use my foot instead.

“Uh-huh. But to tell you the truth, I don’t think you would be here if you weren’t chosen special.”

“Chosen special…” I mean, I didn’t interview, but…

“It’s okay. I can tell you don’t want anyone to know. I won’t tell.”

I breathe out. That makes this easy. He takes a few more drags of his cigarette and I keep eating. The silence is nearly deafening.

“For what it’s worth, I think you’ll be a good addition to the team. Some of our members might not feel the same.”

“Fuck’em,” I spit out on impulse.

“Exactly,” He chuckles, snuffing out his cigarette, “Let’s go meet ‘em and see what they say, then?”

“Okay,” I say as I get back in. If most of them are like Mason, I think I’ll be fine.

* * *

“We’re almost there,” Mason says as we pull up between two mountains, the sun finally setting, “If you wanna put your mask back on.”

I nod and tug my gas mask back over my face, undoing my seatbelt and grabbing my suitcase. Oh god, this is happening. I’m free, and nobody will ever know where I went. We pull into this place that’s half garage and half laboratory. My giddiness mounts as we climb up a couple flights of stairs. I smile wide even if nobody can see.

“I have been waiting for you two for three hours!” Comes a loud voice as we come up the final steps, into a red room filled with a bunch of machines and beat-up filing cabinets.

“You’ve just been standing here for three hours?” Mason says to this stranger wearing a helmet about four sizes too big.

“Wrong! I’ve been _patrolling_ this room! For three hours!” Wow, this guy has no volume control. The stranger hugs Mason tightly for a second before coming over to me and grabbing my hand with both of his, “Nice to meet you!” He says and starts shaking my hand roughly.

“Pyro, this is…” Mason starts, then trails off as the helmeted stranger continues to shake my hand, “Griff, you can stop, you know?”

The stranger completely lets go of me and stiffly returns his hands to his sides. I finally take in how tall he is, standing at least a good foot or so over me.

“Pyro, this is Griffith. Or Soldier. He likes both.”

<Nice to meet you.> I sign, then wonder if Griffith knows sign language.

“Pyro said it’s nice to meet you,” Mason says, answering my question before I ask, “I have to take them to go see Medic, and then I’ll be back.”

Griffith salutes and Mason pats him on the shoulder. We go further into this place, the next room being some kind of makeshift kitchen and living room area with a lot of doors going out from it, all with different symbols on them. I see someone passed out on the couch as we walk by, along with another guy watching the obviously homemade television intently. The second guy stirs when he hears us, glancing over then doing a double take.

“Hey! Hey, nobody told me we were getting a new guy!” Says the guy, who is about my height and wearing a T-shirt with a printed on graphic of a flying shoe.

“I told you two weeks ago, and then you were all ‘okay, Engie,’” Mason says, and exaggeratedly yawns, “Pyro, Jeremy. They can’t talk so don’t expect much.”

“Nice to meet ya,” Jeremy smiles wide, and I wave.

“Just uh, set your stuff over by the couch,” Mason gestures, and starts walking again, “We don’t have a room for you yet, but I’ll ask around.”

I quickly set my suitcase and my flamethrower next to the couch and catch up with Mason, Jeremy lazily trailing behind. The next place is a long hallway with a few doors. We take the one on the very end, into some kind of infirmary. Low humming takes me by surprise as I step in, as the scene before me is anything but fitting for it. A tall black-haired man stands at a counter, cutting up some sort of raw meat into bite-sized chunks that he then scatters for a flock of doves that seem perfectly content with it.

“I wanna feed ‘em too!” Jeremy runs in and yells, as though this were completely normal.

“Shh! You’ll scare them away!” The man whisper-yells to him, dropping some meat into his bare hands, “Be careful, Agnodice bites.”

<What the hell?> I sign in Mason’s general direction. He clears his throat to get the strange man’s attention.

“Oh, right, that was today, wasn’t it?” He sticks out a bloody hand before realizing and wiping it off on his coat, “I am Dr. Ludwig. It is nice to meet you _Herr_ … Ah…”

I know that means mister, and it stings, but I just sign <Pyro.>

“ _Herr_ Pyro,” Finally somebody else knows sign language, “I will be your Medic on the field, but of course you can come to see me at any time. Now, if you could please take off your mask and-”

“No!” I yell at him, shaking my head. Well, he’s a doctor, so he must have a good reason, but still, <At least get Jeremy out.>

“You heard ‘em, Jeremy. Get out.” Mason says, opening the door.

“But I’m not done yet!” Jeremy whines, “I wanna see Pyro anyway.”

“Oh, I can already tell I’m gonna hate you,” I mumble as I push him out the door.

“Hey- Hey, wait, I won’t be a bother or anythin’- I just wanna-”

“If you’re that intent on seeing someone’s organs, maybe you should volunteer.” Dr. Ludwig says as Mason shuts the door behind him, leaving me and the doctor alone.

<Wait, what?>

* * *

You know, seeing your heart ripped out of your body and replaced with a new one kinda gives you a new outlook on life. I think on this as I wipe sweat from my brow and slip my mask on again. It turns out the reason the doctor wanted me to take it off was so he could check that I didn’t need glasses, plus it helps me not overheat and pass out during surgery or something.

“Well, you’re free to go, I suppose.” Dr. Ludwig says, scribbling something down on a scrap of paper, “Stay out of trouble, and don’t forget to eat.”

<Why would I forget to eat?>

“They told me I have to tell my patients that now, because eating only once a day is an ‘eating disorder,’ or whatever. Plus, you’re underweight.”

<I thought I was overweight.>

“What’s the difference?”

Wow, amazing. I take a deep breath and walk back out into the hallway.

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

I sharply turn my head to the source of the noise. Jeremy sits cross-legged on the floor, drawing on a small notepad with one hand and throwing a baseball against the wall with the other. Every time it comes back, he effortlessly catches it despite not looking. For some reason it immediately sticks out to me that the end of his pen is all chewed up.

I get in closer to see what he’s drawing, and he stops everything and looks at me like I just tried to stab him. His expression lightens up a little after, though, and he stands up, tearing off and crumpling the piece of paper he was drawing on.

“I was waiting,” He tells me, shoving the crumpled paper in his pocket, “You wanna tour?”

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/pyroiand)  
> [ask.fm](https://ask.fm/pegoryu)  
> [tumblr](http://combustiblecutie.tumblr.com/)  
> [deviantart](https://pegoryu.deviantart.com/)  
> [buy me a coffee](https://ko-fi.com/demonskull)  
>  please comment on what you think i could do better, i want to improve in any way i can


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